The Fourth Quarter Quell
by The Demon Ledger
Summary: "It was the Catalyst... The Capital expected it. All of it. And they just... let it happen so they could exact THIS revenge. The President was murdered, two days ago... It's happening all over again, Katniss. There was never any stopping them." After all the time they spent, planning, defeating, 24 years later, the worst happens again. Rated M; gore, language, sexual encounters.
1. Chapter 1: Bells

**A/N: **It's been a long time since I've written anything, even my own personal stories. This is the first time I've written fanfiction since… a while. But I hope you enjoy this story. It's definitely set in an AU. Pain and heartbreak is coming, I promise. Enjoy.

**Chapter One: Bells**

Katniss awoke that Sunday at noon to the all too familiar sound of the bells tolling. Her infant, Rye, cried from the next room, and her young daughter Willow dipped under the covers quickly. Katniss confusedly sat up, her hands shaking with memories of what these bells meant in the past. But not now; they couldn't mean the same thing that they always did. That time was past: the starvation gone, the people safe, the fences lowered. There was no way she could breathe still if it wasn't. She'd be long dead if this had all been a dream. It hadn't. It was real; the scars on her face and body proved that.

"No, not yet mama, I'm still so sleepy." said Willow quietly. Her blonde curls peeked out from under the covers. Katniss nodded slowly; she patted her daughter's head, rising from her bed and following the sound to the window. Haymitch stepped out onto his porch, looking around. He beckoned to her upon seeing her face through the curtains. She stepped away from her window, walking to the door and around the corner into Rye's room. She hushed him gently, for just a moment, rocking his crib backwards and forwards. She walked away, down the stairs, looking for Peeta. _Where is that son-of-a-bitch? _ Thought Katniss to herself. She started to worry, hands shaking harder. She opened the front door after looking into the dead house. She watched, the scattered remains of District 12 walking slowly onto their porches, into their yards. Victor's Village was no longer the empty partial town it had been before the war; it was full of life and color. But today the color seemed to dissipate before Katniss' eyes, and she walked across the colorless path to Haymitch. He met her half way, a deep frown etched into his already lined face. He was still striking, even in age.

"Where's Peeta?" asked Katniss, voice trembling in fear. "What's going on? Why are the bells ringing again?" Haymitch motioned towards Greasy Sae's house.

"He went to get breakfast from Sae's daughter for you, Katniss. Happy birthday, by the way, sweetheart." He said, quickly. "But there are more pressing matters than your dutiful husbands location." Katniss nodded, wrapping her arms around herself in her familiar way. She was nodding a lot – it was all she could do, her voice trapped in her throat by the fear of what the bells were to bring.

"W-what…" said Katniss, stuttering. She cleared her throat, starting over. "What's going on, Haymitch?" Why are they ringing the bells again?" It was Haymitch this time who shook his head. He put a hand on Katniss' shoulder, nodding towards the house. She let him guide her into her neatly manicured yard and up her carpeted stairs. She ran upstairs to retrieve a freshly wailing Rye. Peeta walked through the front door as she walked down the stairs. His pupils were huge, and he clenched his hands tightly into fists. He walked straight to Haymitch, looking him dead in the face.

"Restrain. Me." He said through gritted teeth. Haymitch gripped Peeta as tightly as he could, wrapping his strong arms around him. "I'll rip President Paylor's head off," he continued into Haymitch's shoulder. "I thought this was over, with Snow's death; I thought this was over with Coin's death; I thought this was why you killed her: To never have this again."

It finally dawned on the other two what was going on. It had been 24 years since the war. It had been 25 years… since… the 75th Hunger Games.

"NO!" screamed Katniss. She clutched her child to her, panic bubbling in her throat. "NO! It CAN'T be!" Peeta shook his head, stepping out of Haymitch's arms. He had returned almost to normal.

"But it is. It was on the television at Sissy's place while I was trying to get you breakfast." He said, anger boiling on his tone.

"Peeta…" Haymitch trailed off. "Why is this happening?" his voice alone hurt Katniss.

"Punishment." Said a voice from behind the three. Gale Hawthorn stood in their doorway. He limped through the front door, obviously badly beaten and on the verge of collapsing. Katniss hurried to Peeta, handing him Rye and grabbing a chair from the dining room table. She pushed it towards him as he walked into the room. He sat down hard, and she looked at him carefully.

"What do you mean?" she said. She looked more closely at the damage done to Gale. His left eye was limp, drooping in his face. The socket and cheekbone looked broken, and she touched gently around the area. He winced, and she pulled away for only a moment. "Gale?" she repeated his name, feeling it against her tongue. "Please? I know it hurts, but you have to keep going." She stood, walking into the bathroom and retrieving the first aid kit.

"Like Peeta said, the 75th Hunger Games, the third quarter quell…" he paused again, hissing in pain as Katniss reaffirmed her initial thought that his cheekbone was broken. "It was the catalyst for all of this, right?" They all nodded, still slightly confused. "Well, from my understanding, especially from living in Two, they, the Capital, expected it. All of it. And they let it happen so they could exact THIS revenge. The President… She was murdered. Two days ago. I was only just able to get out of Two before the police state broke out. It's happening all over again, Katniss." He paused for a heavyhearted breath. "There was never any stopping them."

Tears rolled down Katniss' face as she did her best to set and seal the bones in Gale's face.

"So…" said Haymitch and Peeta together.

"So we sit back and watch as more children are reaped, again and again, and the Capital takes all its spoils, and your family is executed." Said Gale. "Along with me, all of 13, my family, Haymitch, and any surviving victor for that matter." He finished, looking dismal.

"Turn on the television, Peeta." Said Katniss, not looking at him. She could barely breathe, hands shaking hard with the effort of staying composed enough to finish with Gales face. The television flickered to life, not having been used in almost 25 years. The seal of the Capital surrounded by the seal of each district flashed on the screen. A face faded into view, and Peeta gasped. Haymitch clutched him, hands grasping his shoulders tighter than ever.

"Hello," said a booming mans voice. "Your president has had an… unfortunate accident. President Paylor, as of a few days ago, is no longer with us." Katniss turned: the voice sounded familiar to her, but it couldn't be. She screamed, pointing at the screen. She stumbled back into Gale, and he held her to him as she sobbed painfully. He stood, squeezing her shaking body into his chest, trying to quiet her so they could all hear. The man's face was snaky, just like his fathers. It was Snow, but it wasn't Snow. "I will now be taking over, just like my dear old Dad. Happy Hunger Games, my friends." The snake faced man smiled. "And may the odds be… so ever in your favor."


	2. Chapter 2: The Quell

**A/N: **I feel like, because I've been gone for so long, it's my responsibility to the people who still read my stories to pump out as much at once as I can. So that's what I'm doing here =] Thanks for reading, if you have. Love you all ~Bee~

Ps: This one, I think, is a bit longer than the last. Have fun.

**Chapter Two: The Quell**

"The Quell," continued Snake Face, "will be held here, in the Capital." He held up the usual regulation card that was written now 100 years ago. But Katniss had no intension of believing its history. "This card states that any person of treasonous manner shall have their name entered and reaped, no matter the age. Two men and two women from each district," he looked up, smiling slyly. "That includes you, 13." He shifted the glasses that perched on his almost nothing of a nose. "shall be reaped, for a total of 52 contestants." He paused, looking again at the screen. Pack your bags, if you think you should. Peace keepers are on their way." The screen went black. Willow stumbled her way down the stairs; sleep was still in her wide eyes. Katniss bounced out of gales arms, scooping her up into her own, sobbing.

"What do we do Peeta?" she said, shakily, through sobs. "We're going!"

"Of course we're going. All of us." Peeta looked around, shifting Rye in his arms. "We fight. We plan. We find a week point – a chink in the armor… We do it all over again, because we have to. Because… Katniss this time, we don't have a choice."

There was a sharp rap on the door, making them all jump. Willow nuzzled her face into her mothers shoulder, starting to cry. They knocked again, harder, more demanding. Haymitch approached the door cautiously, obviously and visibly shaken. He opened it, finding himself staring into the white clothed chests of… Peacekeepers.

"Is…" the smaller of the two Peacekeepers looked down at a sheet of paper. "Gale Hawthorn on the premises?" he tried to regain his obvious authority; it was visible how pleased he was with the assignment to track down Gale. "We've cause to summon him for the Fourth Quarter Quell."

Katniss gripped Gales hand tightly, squeezing as hard as she could, and only released it when he stepped forward.

"Yeah," he said. "That's me." He bowed his head as they slipped wrist cuffs around his already bruised wrists. He'd been imprisoned, and Katniss knew it. She couldn't breathe, but she tried her best to keep her composure. "I'll see you in the Capital, Catnip." He said as they turned him around. She ran forwards, Willow bouncing in her arms, and pressed into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, trying his hardest not to cry. She stepped back, and he gave her a hard, warning look. Then they shoved him, backwards, out the door, and it slammed behind them.

"Well shit, sweetheart." Said Haymitch, looking at Katniss. "We've got a real problem." Katniss looked at him, tears in her hard grey eyes. She was slightly confused by Haymitch's statement. She bit her lip in question, and he smirked. "Well," he continued on, "it's obvious who's going to be reaped now, isn't it?"

Katniss started crying in earnest now, sinking to the ground, holding Willow to her tightly. She sang the same song she sang to her as she slept, but through the tears she felt as she watched Rue die. She hadn't felt scared like this in a long time. Rye was crying again, fat baby hands reaching out for his mother.

"Who…" said Katniss between sobs, taking Rye from Peeta. She held them both in her shaking arms, tightly bound to them. "Who will watch them? When I… we… who will love them like we do, Peeta?" she looked at her husband, who stood, unmoving, unseeing, unblinking. His hands were shaking, and she could tell he was struggling to hold it together. She reached a hand towards him, and he took it, kneeling on the ground with her and the children. Katniss laid her head on Peeta's shoulder, kissing his neck softly. Tears rolled down his face, and he breathed her in, pressing his face against the top of her head. He replaced Gales kiss with hundreds of his own. Haymitch looked between both of them, and then sat down in the chair Gale had vacated.

"Kiddo's," he said under his breath, "I'm getting old now. And we all know now that Gale isn't gonna be reaped with 12. So it's Peeta and me. And you, sweetheart. But who else? That's what we've got to wonder about now."

Katniss looked at the ceiling, begging silently. She was praying for the third time in her life. She remembered the other two. The first was when her father died, when she prayed for her mother to come back, when she prayed for something to change, something better to happen. That was when she got her bread from Peeta. The second was when she woke up the morning of her sisters first reaping. That one didn't work out so well. After everything that had happened, why was she praying again? No one was listening; at least she didn't think so. But she prayed. Harder than she ever had before in her life.

* * *

Delly Cartwright stood in the doorway, small bag hanging from her hand. Katniss smiled at her, looking around the house. Everything was in order, babies sleeping upstairs. Delly walked slowly inside. The house was definitely bigger than what she was used to. Her fingers grazed along the mantle, looking at the beautiful pictures of Katniss and Prim, her mother, Peeta and Willow, them and Rye. The paintings that Peeta had done for the Victory tour all those long years ago hung on the walls, both framed and frameless. This was the first time she'd seen a victor's mansion.

"Thank you, Delly," said Peeta, stepping down the stairs. He gave her a quick and tight hug. She patted his back, shaking her head slightly and laughing to her self. Peeta released her, and she spoke.

"Peeta, you and I both know that, even though I was in 13, even though I did try to help you, I never went to the capital. I never planned anything. I was basically as useless to you all then as I am to the capital now. This is the least I can do for the things you tried to do for me and my brother." She laughed again, but it felt forced. "They would've collected me days ago if they wanted me." She turned to Katniss, smiling as brightly as she could. "Everything will be okay. I can feel it." She walked further into the sitting room. "You'll do what you need to do."

Boots pounded up their front steps, and Katniss' heart raced. She choked back tears, smiling at Delly's friendship. They'd never been truly close, but she admired Delly's bravery in the face of the hardest times. Sharp knocks beat the door. Once, twice, three times they pounded, the hardness of the raps matching the hardness of her heartbeats.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mellark? Let us in: Peacekeepers. We're here to collect you for the reaping." Said a young woman. She sounded tired. Peeta strode to the door, opening it. The young woman and an older man stood on the front step, dressed in their white uniforms, each holding a pair of wrist cuffs. "I, unfortunately, must insist that you wear these. It's…. mandatory for all… rebels." Her eyes dropped to the ground. It was obvious this was not her choice. Katniss gained a little respect for the woman, but couldn't bring herself to really feel anything for them but pity.

"Peeta." Said Delly, smile fading. "Good luck." She turned to Katniss as his wrist cuffs were locked tightly into place. They were fancier than the cuffs he had on during the war, automatically clicking shut as his wrists were placed inside them. "Everything will be okay," Delly repeated. "You will do what you need to do." She gave her a sharp look; one similar to the one Gale gave her days previous. Katniss stepped away, handing her rucksack and Peeta's duffel bag to the male Peacekeeper while the female locked her wrists together. Katniss took a deep breath, looking over at her husband.

"Okay?" he asked quietly. She nodded, sighing. The Peacekeepers patted each of them down, checking them for possible weapons. Katniss watched as, across the way, Haymitch was getting a much rougher treatment from a much surlier looking Peacekeeper. He winked at both of them, and Katniss grinned for the first time in what felt like days.

"Tell Willow and Rye that we love them." Said Katniss quickly. The door slammed shut behind them, and Katniss struggled to hold back her tears. Peeta hummed slightly, straining at the cuffs, trying to keep himself in check. "Everything will be okay, Peeta." She said softly. "I love you."

They were hurried to the train station, and Haymitch whistled at the female Peacekeeper as he passed them by.

"Aren't you a lovely thing?" he said, loudly. He was clearly drunk, had fallen off the wagon he so dutifully set himself upon. This got him a sharp blow to the back, and the Peacekeeper hurried him faster, into almost a jog. The female leading Katniss huffed in impatience.

"You're lucky," said the woman into Katniss' ear. "I heard President Snow was planning on making every last one of you into fucking Avox slaves. At least now, only one of you hafta suffer like that." She laughed loudly. "Ain't that a joy, Catnip?"

"Don't call her that." Said Peeta, sharply.

"Most of 'em," said the man, ignoring Peeta, "I heard he killed most of 'em already. 'Specially in the career districts and… all the Capital ones are definitely gone. This games will certainly be interesting." There was an awful inflection in his tone, and Katniss shuddered in disgust and fear. They had reached the station, where the train sat, longer than ever. It was obvious they were planning on shuttling everyone to the Capital all at once.

"Twelve, this way." They were shoved roughly down the platform, and into their specific car. The cuffs were removed, bags thrown in, and doors sealed tightly behind them. The district seal was painted over the door. Katniss looked around, pained at the sight of the Capital train. A woman sat, back facing them, long, dirty blonde hair tied up in a tight bun. She wore plain clothing, and her hands were starting to show age. Haymitch sat across from her, tears obvious in his eyes.

"Hello, darlings," said the woman in an affected accent. "Never thought I'd see you two in here again. Looks like we have another big, big day."


	3. Chapter 3: What Befalls Us

**A/N: **I've noticed this story isn't getting very much feedback. Maybe it's because my writing suddenly sucks? I don't know. It would be great if you could favorite/follow/review my story – it really helps with the writing process and makes me a better writer. I'd like to see some improvement in my writing, and if there's anything you think that I could do that would make it better, then thank you sooo much!

This chapter is definitely my longest thus far, and probably the one with the most motion – it goes through about four days in the length of six hand written pages. If you're enjoying, please tell me why. I could always use the feedback. If not, please, the same goes. Thanks a ton for reading if you do.

~Bee~

**Chapter 3: What Befalls Us**

Effie stood, turning to Katniss as she shook her head back and forth. A smile crept across the elder woman's face; her eyes were still dead from the war, but her features remained practically unchanged. Her bangs – obviously her real hair – hung across an unmade face. She was strikingly beautiful, with wide green eyes and full, dark pink lips. Her image blurred in Katniss' eyes, swimming in her tears.

"Oh, honey," said Effie, voice softening. Her accent wasn't as strong as it had been when they'd last seen her, years and years ago. "Did you think they wouldn't want to reap Effie Trinket? Me, who represented the most successful district in the past two years of games? Me, who fought the hardest out of all the other "rebel" members of the capital? Me, who mentored you, who watched you become the Mockingjay I always knew you were? Oh yes, my little bird, I may have played dumb and kept my head down at the start, but I knew the plan better than anyone. Except… perhaps Haymitch."

His head shot up at the sound of his name, eyes red from crying, or perhaps the strong liquor he clutched tightly in his hand. Peeta strode forward, placing his hand on top of Haymitch's. Haymitch nodded and Peeta took the glass from him, throwing it down the length of the dining car. It made a satisfying shattering sound as it smashed against the door. Effie opened her mouth to correct his etiquette, then shook her head. She pulled a shaking Katniss into her arms, rocking her back and forth in a motherly way.

"I am so sorry, Katniss." said Effie quietly into her ear. Katniss nodded through sharp breaths and let Effie hold her tightly. She felt safe here, for the first time in a long time, wrapped up in Effie's arms. Her mother hadn't held her like this in years, and it felt comforting.

"Well," said Haymitch, standing shakily. Effie reluctantly released Katniss, keeping one arm wrapped around her shoulders. "might as well try to figure out what we're up against, right?"

* * *

It was after nightfall, and five or so district pick-ups later that they 'd finally narrowed down who they expected to be reaped. The four had put together a short list of obvious rebels and still living victors. It wasn't anywhere near 52 people, but they hadn't tried to guess who would be reaped from the outlying districts.

"Okay," said Effie quietly. "so far, who do we have?"

"Only rebels I can remember from One are Heather Grace, Sid Jewel, and their families. If they were smart, they would've left One after the war. But neither of them were the brightest, so you can expect at least one, if not all of them at the reaping." said Haymitch, voice more steady.

"And we know Gale and Enobaria are being reaped with Two," said Peeta.

"If Enobaria is still alive. Two, even after the war, didn't favor rebels. You have to remember their business – Gale must've left for a reason. Peacekeepers stream out of there like ants." replied Haymitch. "But they especially don't like Victor Rebels. Those, to them, are like… poison."

Everyone was silent for a moment, reflecting on whether or not Enobaria could convince the rest of Two she was never really on anyone's side but her own.

"Okay…" continued Effie, "what about Three?"

"Beetee." said Katniss, speaking up for the first time in hours. Her voice was hoarse from crying, and she had to clear her throat a few times before it felt quite right again. But the thought of seeing her old Electronics District friend filled her with slight hope. "But that's all I remember from Three." she thought for a moment about the other districts, before feeling panic resurface inside her. She scrambled away from the table, holding her hand to her mouth.

"Katniss?" Peeta hurried around the mahogany table towards her, "Katniss, what's wrong?"

"Four," she said, breathing deeply to try to calm herself. "Think about Four." the words ripped at her throat, voice breaking.

It took everyone a moment before they realized what she meant. Four wasn't exactly the most rebellious, but in its heart sat one victor the world craved to get a piece of. His death marked the very bitter end of his wife's long fight for sanity. Finnick Odair. Annie had finally clicked into place when the anonymous faces told her that her husband had died. Her son was born eight short months later. She was finally, if not ironically, in one piece when James came into the world. Katniss couldn't even begin to imagine her pain.

"But…" started Haymitch. Peeta gave him a sharp look, warning him to shut up. Haymitch ignored him. "But Katniss, you're forgetting someone."

Katniss looked up, confused. She ran names back and forth in her mind, accompanied by the districts they represented. It was true; she had forgotten someone. Maggie Everdeen, her mother, almost never came up in conversation anymore, and Katniss tried her hardest not to think about her. Her mother was estranged, blaming Katniss for Prim's death. And she couldn't bear the thought that maybe she was right.

"No. They won't reap her," said Katniss. "No, there's no reason to. No, Haymitch, you're wrong." she shook her head quickly back and forth. Haymitch took her hand, nodding to calm her.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'm wrong." he said, breathing deeply. "Believe me, I really hope I'm wrong."

* * *

Peeta stepped out of his bedroom, leaving Katniss to sleep as long as she could. They were just reaching One, where they had been stopped longer than any other district. He chuckled, watching people run for the platform before they were left behind. _Sheep, _he thought. _Pawns. _He rested his forehead against the tinted glass window, rolling it back and forth, thinking. There was no way out this time. There was one Tribute coming out of an arena with 52 people in the mix. He even knew he wasn't one of them; this time, above all else, he had to protect Katniss. Again. It felt… redundant. But this time, he wasn't afraid. He didn't feel the tears or the fear that Katniss felt; he was simply disgusted. Was the Capital really so… animalistic that even full-scale war wouldn't stop them from holding their game show?

_How did this happen? _Peeta wondered silently to himself. _What did we miss? _The puzzle was incomplete, and it was driving him mad. The war was a success in itself. Snow had died the way he always would have. So what did they miss?

The screaming of his wife interrupted Peeta's internal monologue. He turned, practically running back into their compartment. Peeta grabbed her, pulling her into him, kissing her head and pressing it into his chest. Her body thrashed with the nightmare he knew he couldn't stop. Peeta just lay as still as possible, breathing calmly and hushing her as best as he could.

"Shhh… Katniss, shh…" he said, lovingly. "shh…" he rocked her back and forth now, bringing her into his lap, trying to quiet her back into her restless sleep. The train was starting to move again; Peeta could see One, and all of its glamour, disappear past the windows. He was happy to be moving again. The staying still made everything seem so much more real. He wanted to just pretend it was another nightmare. Katniss curled up, and he pressed her back into the bed. Her breathing softened with her sleep, and he smoothed her hair back; covering her with the blankets, he stood, stretching out his sore muscles. Peeta stepped out of the bedroom again, letting the door close behind him.

As he walked through the hallway into the dining car, he wondered again where the plan had failed. Haymitch sat, back facing him, looking out the thick glass windows at the wilderness that rushed past. He patted the seat next to him when he heard Peeta enter the room. They sat together in silence for a long while, each contemplating their own inner tortures before Haymitch spoke.

"Is Katniss going to be okay?" he asked? He'd sobered up again, eyes focused elsewhere.

"Was she ever okay?" replied Peeta, heaviness in his voice. This will either kill her, or make her fight harder. I just don't think she's decided which yet." Peeta sighed, standing and stretching again. He walked over to the mahogany table, piled with uneaten food and continued: "Haymitch," he grunted in acknowledgement. "What did we miss?"

Haymitch shrugged, shaking his head and looking down into his lap. "Honestly, kid?" he asked gently, "I have no fuckin' clue." Peeta took a dinner roll from the platter, rolling it between his hands. "Katniss killed Coin. She took out that threat. I thought it was over."

"But think about it, Haymitch," continued Peeta. Everything was starting to become clearer in his mind. "Think about how the 'officials' handled Coin's death. They should've killed Katniss, strung her up for the whole world to see. She committed the worst act of treason imaginable. But they didn't. They kept her safe as could be, locked up in a room to contemplate her own meaning. It was as if they'd expected Katniss to kill Coin. As if…" Peeta trailed off, suddenly realizing something. "As if…" he couldn't finish the thought; it was too unbearable.

"As if it had been planned." finished Haymitch. Peeta hadn't realized that Haymitch had stood and walked over to him. The older victor pried the dinner roll from between Peeta's fingers, drawing him into his arms as Peeta let out the first of his real pain. "I know, kiddo, I know." said Haymitch, rubbing Peeta's back as he cried out in anger. Effie walked into the room cautiously, eyes still tired. She'd obviously not gotten the sleep she'd intended to, but nodded in understanding when she saw Peeta.

"Peeta… I am so sorry." said Effie. "Plutarch… Plutarch and Coin had been working with Snow's son all along. Being in the Capital with your head down and your ears primed certainly helps you figure things out. I'd been keeping this under wraps, hoping Coins death would dissuade them from trying anything… like this." Effie's voice was calm; dealing with situations like this almost her whole life made her not only a good Games mentor, but also best at diffusing bombs like Peeta when needed.

"In the beginning," she started, sitting in one of the men's vacated chairs. "Wait," she paused, looking around. Peeta had calmed a significant amount, but his face was still red with anger. "Someone retrieve Katniss please. She'll need to hear this too."


	4. Chapter 4: The Beginning

**A/N: **Chapter four, sound good? It's getting pretty intense. If anything doesn't make sense, please let me know. This is definitely a work in progress. I may go back and update the chapters depending on how the story goes. Let me know what you think by a beautiful favorite, a wonderful follow, or a deeply indebted review. I owe you guys my entire writing career. Please, please, please keep reading.

~Bee~

**Chapter Four: The Beginning **

"In the beginning, the plan was to bring down the Capital from the inside out, stop the Games, and restore the Thirteen districts to their former glory, if only for a short time. This would all be under Coin, who worked closely with Snow to prevent a mass hysteria when he "bombed" Thirteen as a whole. But he – President Snow – was dying; he needed someone to take over, someone he could trust to keep the plan in order. Someone to give the people hope. But this isn't the kind of hope that stays: it was a golden age with conditions. This was the hope he always talked about: Hope he could take away with the snap of his fingers. Hope he gave to you in that first Hunger Games, Katniss.

"But the plan changed when you didn't kill Peeta in that first Games. It was pandemonium in the Capital after you returned home. You became the key to a new era, a free era. You became the Mockingjay, my dear. So a new plan had to be formulated; a new civilization centered on you and your victory against the Capital. The Mockingjay Initiative was formed. And the plan… it was perfect." Effie looked at Katniss. She placed one hand over hers, smiling softly. "That is the exact reason Coin hated you from the get go. This was the reason they tortured Peeta, and everyone else for that matter, to death… or close enough.

"But we're not blaming you Katniss. It's not even close to your fault. "Coin continued her plan with Snow, even with you right next to her at the helm. Everything was going perfectly to plan, the attack on Eight, the propo's, everything. It was all concealed so perfectly from every other rebel in Thirteen… and it was all exactly how she and Snow wanted it to be. And then you went into the Capital and everything went to shit." Effie cleared her throat, startled by her own use of vulgar language. "Boggs died, and then instead of giving the Holo to Jackson, Coins right hand guard, he gave it to you. Even then, she thought it would all be okay, as long as Peeta could still kill you.

"But as soon as she figured out Peeta couldn't kill you – wouldn't kill you – she had Snow and his men release the mutations, and she set up those silver parachute bombs. She had those designed by Gale for this exact reason. Gale didn't even know what he was doing." This comforted Katniss slightly, for some reason. She'd long since forgiven Gale for the death of her sister, knowing that, if he'd understood what those bombs were to be used for, he wouldn't have designed them at all. Effie was starting to cry at the horror that was visible in Katniss and Peeta's eyes. Haymitch hung his head, not knowing what to say at all. "I love you both so very much; you really did everything you could. But the plan failed all over the place, in every way. Boggs gave you command, and everything went to hell from there." Effie sighed. "This day was inevitable. Everyone that was doubled in agency knew it would come."

"How do you know all this?" asked Haymitch, finally speaking. "And if you knew, why didn't you stop it?"

"There was nothing to stop!" cried Effie hysterically. "If you don't remember, Haymitch, I was being tortured until the day the war ENDED. I found all this out by being a double agent. By working closely with the Capital and feeding information to Boggs and the others I was close with. I felt the urgent need to leave you out of this because of the fact that you would've ruined it, like you always do." She stood now, frenzied by her emotions. "I was caught, one day. This is why I'm like this. Why I'm… deadened inside. Snow and Coin were both dead by the time I was released. I gave nothing away; in face, I know I'm lucky they didn't kill me. I fancifully believed things would be different, that perhaps Paylor, or maybe even YOU, would have the foresight to kill the entire Snow family; to execute them in the square, not have mercy for killers of CHILDREN. Perhaps, Mr. Abernathy, we could've avoided this whole situation, had you done exactly that." Effie marched away, seating herself in the armchair furthest from the group of people.

Haymitch hung his head again, feeling the fault rest on his shoulders for not seeing through the people he thought to trust. Katniss squeezed his fingers, shaking her head slightly. Looking out the window, she saw the Capital loom in the distance. Bigger and fancier than ever, it glowed, striking out the twinkling starlight they'd seen only moments before. She stood, walking towards the window. Something was different about this Capital versus the Capital she remembered of her childhood. Peacekeepers stood guard at the entrance, and the train came to a slow stop.

The entry doors to their car opened, and a dozen or more Peacekeepers marched in, cuffing each of them and shoving dark linen bags over their heads. Katniss choked in the suffocating darkness. She was shoved roughly off the train, stumbling onto the platform. She heard someone hit the ground hard, the wailing of young people, the pleading of desperate men. Katniss kept her composure, following the commands of the man who lead her. Questions raged like a river through her mind, but she counted her footsteps; it kept her outside her head, instead of in.

Soon, they reached the Justice Building. There would be no Chariot Procession for the chosen Tributes this time, no glamorous interviews of their feelings for the Games. They were prisoners, and each of them knew it – maybe not the Careers, they still thought of these as games – but they were all prisoners all the same. It was just training, and then the arena. But first, the reaping. First the pain. Katniss had her linen bag ripped roughly off her head, taking hair with it. Her cuffs were removed roughly as well, scratching her wrists and making them ache. The door was locked when the Peacekeepers had all exited the room, laughing among themselves.

The room buzzed with manic energy. Women cried, children wailed; the Careers stood in an obvious pack, grinning towards one another in joy. Katniss stood on tiptoe at the front of the room, delicately avoiding the pack of Careers like rabid wolves, looking for Peeta, Haymitch and Effie. She scowered the room, smiling softly at people she knew, hoping to god she wouldn't find them missing. Finally she saw them: Peeta was bent over; Haymitch's face was bloodied and bruised. She ran to them, concern etched deep into her face.

"Fell on my way off the train," said Haymitch with a sour grin. "Look broken, doctor girl?" he teased. She shook her head after a moment, poking him hard in the shoulder, and laughing a little. She looked around, sensing something was wrong.

"Where's Effie?" she asked loudly over the din of the large room.

"Figured she'd be with you," said Peeta. "So we don't really know." The door opened again, and Haymitch sprung to his feet. He dropped his white handkerchief to the ground when he saw Effie shoved into the room. She was clutching herself, trying hard to fix her shirt before someone noticed what was wrong. Her hair was a horrible mess, falling out of the neatly wrapped bun she'd put it into; tearstains were obvious on her face. She quaked as she walked slowly into the room, looking for them. Haymitch – forgetting that he, himself was injured – ran to her, pulling her close as she broke and sobbed, deep, dragging sobs into his chest.

This happened a few more times with different women and men over the next hour. Katniss stayed sat down, huddled on the floor, protected by Haymitch and Peeta. They recognized a few people, but had yet to see Gale. Effie hadn't stopped shaking violently, and every time Haymitch sat forward to say something, she pressed harder against him, shaking her head violently. Finally, resigned, Haymitch buried his face in her messy hair, humming a quiet love song to her. She slowly fell into a restless half-sleep, wrapped in Haymitch's still strong arms.

"I love you, Katniss." Said Peeta quietly. She turned to him, searching his eyes for the meaning behind these sudden words, and kissed him hard. They hadn't been physically close for a while; since Rye was born, it'd been harder and harder to find a moment for them. Perhaps the training before the Games would be their last chance. Panic bubbled in her stomach at the thought of losing him. She couldn't do it, wouldn't do it. It wasn't going to be all okay if he died.

Three Peacekeepers threw open the doors, tossing one last person inside before backing out and bolting them shut, cackling. Katniss looked up, seeing a bruised and bloodied man. His eye had swollen shut, and he limped painfully towards them, hand raised high in signal.

"GALE!" she screamed, jumping up. He smiled at her, shaking his head slightly, obviously laughing to himself. They ran to each other through the crushing amount of people; Gale scooped her up and held her tightly to himself.

"God, Catnip, what are we gonna do?" said Gale, setting her down and pressing his face against her head, breathing in deeply. Peeta walked up, smiling softly. It made him happy, actually, to see Gale and Katniss so close again. It wasn't right to keep them apart. They hugged hard, clapping each other on the back like old friends.

"Plan," said Katniss. "We need to find the other rebels, and make a new plan." They looked at Haymitch and Effie, around the room at the scared and sobbing people. There was no plan. There was no fight. Everyone had given up. And the three knew it was almost hopeless.

But almost was the word they clung to most of all.


	5. Chapter 5: The Reaping

**A/N: **So I pay very close attention to my visitor stats. This story really means a lot to me, it's probably one of the best stories I've ever written in my life. I love it a lot and I really want everyone else to love it too. Believe me, I've never worked harder or longer or thought more about something before this story.

It would mean the world to me if you would favorite/follow/review. Those reviews actually do mean something – if you didn't know, they get people reading! 3

Anyways, thanks for all your support. ~Bee~

**Chapter Five: The Reaping**

Peacekeepers milled through the room – the air had turned hot and the sweat of almost two hundred people filled the air. Katniss was starting to feel a little nauseous; her stomach churned with the uneasy feeling of helplessness and hunger. It wasn't much to go on, but she looked around the room slowly. The amount of Peacekeepers had grown exponentially in the past few minutes: from five to almost twenty. They filled the room, each one taking account of the people they had in each section. She clutched Gale and Peeta's hands, holding them as close to her as possible. Fear started shaking through her as two Peacekeepers strolled up to them, looking stern.

"Mr. Hawthorn?" asked one of the tall men. Gale nodded, looking at him, squinting. "I'm going to have to ask you to get back with your district. Reaping's in about ten minutes." The man smirked as Gale turned to Katniss. They pressed their foreheads together, and Katniss sighed. He kissed her forehead gently, mouthing the words 'I love you', patted Peeta's knee, and stood, pulling his hand gently out of Katniss'. Katniss laid her head on Peeta's shoulder, sighing softly.

"You okay?" asked Peeta, kissing her. She nodded. "He still loves you." She nodded again, tears starting in her eyes.

"I know," she said. She cried a little before taking a deep breath. "I know." Peeta looked at her, confused. "I love YOU, Peeta. That was decided years ago. Don't do this right now." Peeta shook his head, laughing.

"I know you love me, Katniss." He replied. "I love you too." His laughter in all of this serious anger was unnerving. She felt herself cringing before she could stop it. He laughed again, harder. There was no reason not to – the reaping, the games. It was all a joke, a huge, horrible joke in the Capitals eyes. Why not laugh back?

"We could kill ourselves." She said, putting her head back down.

"Yeah, cause that worked out so well last time we tried," replied Peeta, still chuckling. "They'd just kill us, Katniss. Plus, knowing us, I don't think we could watch each other die and then be capable of killing ourselves." Katniss nodded, this time laughing herself. Effie was still silent, planted on the ground next to Haymitch. Her eyes were very open, searching the room for a way out. There was none, Katniss had looked, twice. She had now very determinedly decided not to look around the large holding room. There were too many familiar faces, too many people she'd fought with, lived with.

"Everybody up!" yelled the Head Peacekeeper. "It's time for us to go."

They stood in the square where the chariots would usually bank after the Tributes Parade. Katniss still had her hand locked in Peeta's. She could feel her body shaking in fear. There wasn't much she could do; she knew who would be called. She knew it was useless to fret. Her fingers pressed against the back of Peeta's hand, and she clutched it tightly, not wanting to ever let go.

"District One!" called the Head Peacekeeper from the stage. He dipped his hand into the bowl marked with a large R, for Rebel. There was only one slip in the bowl, and he grabbed it, smirking. "Heather Grace." He read. She swaggered forward, hands in the pockets of her dropped-crotch pants. People jeered, people whistled, but Heather kept her chin up, slowly making her way to the wide, long stage. Three other names were drawn from the bowls on either side of him, one female, two male, and they ran to the stage, whooping and high-fiving each other. Heather shook her head, scowling at them.

"Do you think this is a fucking Game?" she yelled, striding forward. The Head Peacekeeper whipped out his baton, striking her across the face. "Do…" she said, spitting out blood. "Do you think this is going to be fun?"

"Shut up, girl!" said the Peacekeeper.

"Do you realize what you're going to be doing?" Heather continued to walk forward, getting closer to the Peacekeeper, practically screaming at the audience. "You're going to be killing each other. This is not fun. It is not a game."

The Peacekeeper sent a punch straight to Heathers stomach. She careened over, falling onto her hands and knees, spitting blood. He kicked her once, twice, three times in the side before she felt to the ground, silent and unmoving. "Shut up." He said quietly. "Do you hear me? SHUT. YOUR FUCKING. MOUTHS."

The crowd was silent, minus a few weeping people. Katniss hurt for Heather, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. A medic came, dragging her a few feet before picking her up and moving her to a medical tent. The Careers looked shocked and startled; their smiles had been wiped clean off their faces. They stood a distance apart, all sense of camaraderie and friendship abandoned; looking at each other, you could tell they were no longer a team, but prisoners of each others company.

"District Two!" called the Peacekeeper. The bowls had been changed out on either side of him, a number two marking the bowls. The Rebel bowl stood still in front of him, but there were only two names inside it this time. He fished around for a moment before drawing out both names, still unsmiling. "Gale Hawthorn. Enobaria Posey." They both walked to the stage; Enobaria looked at home in the Capital even still, her pointed-toothed grin giving Katniss a shiver down her spine. Gale however limped painfully to the stage, his head down. She didn't want to know what he was thinking; it was certainly of death. Two other names were called for the district: one young man looked quite pleased with his selection, evidently looking past the scene that Heather had made. The young girl who was called, Mariah Lesley, screamed when she was found, crouched between the feet of someone who looked to be her sister. She was pulled forcefully to the stage where she received three lashings on her practically bare back. The abuse was getting worse. The same thing happened in three, Beetee coming forward slowly and steadily: he was definitely the oldest thus far. Two of the others Katniss recognized as being in Thirteen when the war broke loose; they'd obviously found their calling in the Technology District when it ended.

District Four was next. There were no extra bowls; just empty stands where the bowls should have been. Katniss tried to count the number of slips in the Rebel bowl, but it was too far away, and there were too many. She could guess between six and ten slips, but she wasn't sure. Katniss shook in fear as the Peacekeeper drew the first slip out of the bowl, opening it as slowly as he possibly could. It felt like years before he finally read the name.

"Annie Odair." Katniss gasped as he threw the slip away. A sob wrenched the air, and Annie was practically dragged to the stage. This time, there was no Maggs to volunteer for her, and she stood, quaking, the only member of District Four on the stage. Gale slowly slipped to her, taking her hand in his. She smiled at him gently, looking down at the ground as tears fell off her nose.

"James Odair," was the second name called. Annie shook her head back and forth in denial, practically begging anyone to take the place of her only son. Looking at Peeta, Katniss knew he would've given the opportunity. A young man, about the age of Reaping and the spitting image of Finnick dragged himself slowly to the stage; one leg lagged behind the other: he looked badly beaten – just as, if not worse than Gale.

"Maggie Everdeen."

The world stopped.

There was no sound, no movement but Katniss' own.

"No!" she screamed.

Her feet barely found traction on the slippery paving stones. Her hand whipped away from Peeta's.

"NO, MOM!" her voice cracked, and she met resistance in a Peacekeeper.

Her mother, hair graying in places, turned to look at Katniss, shaking her head slightly to warn her. Katniss struggled against the Peacekeeper, earning herself a sharp blow to the abdomen. She doubled over in pain, falling to her hands and knees; fearing treatment similar to Heathers, she crawled backwards, away from the Peacekeeper's boots. She looked up, vision blurred, and watched as Maggie and Annie clasped hands. Maggie looked at Gale, raising a hand to his face and caressing it gently. Gale didn't respond affectionately – he wasn't fond of Maggie. There were no tears in her soft blue eyes. Just anger.

The last name was called, and a young man stepped forward to volunteer for his father. He looked about Reaping Age.

The rest seemed to go on for hours, and Katniss noticed a patter she would likely share with Peeta and the other two later: The more rebels in the bowl, the more likely there would be volunteers; the more volunteers, the more irritated the Peacekeepers got, and the more aggressive they were towards the crowd. Relative were reunited, clutching each other in desperation. Johanna Mason, still scarred and hair still missing in places, walked herself to the stage when her name was called with Seven. She didn't have the purposeful, determined look she'd always had. Her skin was yellowed from Morphling; she knew she was dead already.

Nine had three volunteers, all children. The Peacekeeper read off Ten and Eleven – all rebels with no volunteers. The bowls were changed, and the four members of District twelve linked hands. The Peacekeeper dipped his hand into the bowl, drawing out and reading each name silently to himself. Katniss was finally left alone in her roped off section once the names were called.

"Katniss Mellark." called the Peacekeeper. This was when he finally smiled. "C'mon down."


End file.
